


Whether You’re Hiding in the Closet or Under a Sheet, You Can’t Avoid Your Problems for Long

by Filling_the_Empty



Category: Gintama
Genre: Comedy, Gay, Gintoki thinks he's someone else, Hijikata tries to help, I know amnesia is a terrible story telling crutch, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content, Temporary Amnesia, but probably makes things worse, i don't care, it's gonna get weird
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-06-22 03:36:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15572874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filling_the_Empty/pseuds/Filling_the_Empty
Summary: Gintoki gets into a bar fight that will end up changing his life... And Hijikata's... And Elizabeth's.





	1. You Probably Shouldn't Trust Seedy Bar Signs, but There is Something to be Said About Taking a Risk

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to dedicate this story to SilverEyesAndFallingSnow for putting up with my terrible ideas... though perhaps dedicating a crack fic story only adds to the pile of bad ideas...
> 
> I am new to the Gintama fandom but couldn't stop myself from putting this out into the world. I hope I can provide some nonsense on par with the show itself, at least to some extent. I've definitely been enjoying the comedic timing of the anime and look forward to watching more...
> 
> But in the meantime...

It was a muggy summer day in the streets of the Kabukicho district and Gintoki was looking for trouble. Not for any world ending, amanto related, night ruining chaos but just something to make the evening a little more exciting. With each bar the silver haired man traipsed to and from he became a little more rowdy. A little more foul-mouthed. His old haunts had become accustomed to kicking him out fast, and even the old woman wasn’t entertaining any of his shit today.

“No fun,” he muttered to himself as he kicked at the dusty street. There had been a lull in amanto activity for the past month and the heat wave had even tamed some of the more boisterous characters into submission. It had the exact opposite effect on Gintoki. Ordinarily he enjoyed his mundane, Jump reading, strawberry milk life but the heat… that damned heat. It only seemed to rile him, upset something deep in his gut. He was craving some sort of fight, physical contact of any sort. 

It was a bit unsettling, this desire for violence. It had come in handy during the war but he had tried to leave old habits behind. Yet, despite his best efforts his fists were tightly clenched in his pockets, teeth grinding. His belly was full of sake and it only made him warmer. He could feel sweat on his neck, drenching his shirt. His eyes flicked from side to side, trying to find a potential sparring partner that preferably, wasn’t too tough or dangerous looking. His blood was boiling and he started to have second thoughts. He was feeling a little out of control. Would it be better to turn in early?

No… Gintoki shook his head and reassured himself. These intentions were not malicious. He merely wanted a little fun. A good old knock down drag out brawl. That and returning to his equally scorching apartment to sweat into his sheets was hardly a better alternative.

As Gintoki walked he spied a flickering sign pointing down an alley promising sweet cocktails and girls, girls, girls. He sighed, not particularly in the mood for semi clad babes but his eyes sharpened when he saw a poster that claimed this particular establishment had the best strawberry daiquiri in town. 

That he had to see.

The silver haired man trudged down the alleyway, shoulders hunched and his eyes more dead than usual. He had been tricked by such claims before. No place had ever offered drinks sweet enough for him. Yes he partook in beer, but if he was going to get drunk and silly on fruity cocktails he wanted to do it right.  


He kicked open the thin wood door, eyeing the welcome sign that contained some sort of amanto language mixed with broken Japanese. It raised his hackles, but he was also ready for a little throw down. Perhaps things were working out in his favor. 

Gintoki entered and glanced around the bar, turning up his nose at the shabby décor and disreputable patrons. Hardly the girls, girls, girls that were promised, unless they had been referring to the gelatinous pile of sludge in the corner. Gintoki couldn’t identify the amanto’s gender so they could have been a woman… but regardless, he could tell he was outnumbered.

Amantos. Far as the eye could see. Nary a human in the entire room. Lovely.

Undeterred, Gintoki sauntered in, too drunk to care, too strong to be worried. He saddled up to the bar between two beastly amanto of the same species. Their fur was thick and wiry, dark brown with snouts like bears and eyes like something more reptilian. The silver haired man didn’t pay them any mind and simply turned his gaze on the barkeep with an egg shaped head and green sickly skin. His bug eyes blinked, one lid slightly delayed and his long, anteater tongue flipped out to try and capture a fly off his shoulder. Gintoki grimaced before deciding to order.

“Two strawberry daiquiris please,” he requested, raising his index and middle finger. The bug amanto cocked his head to the side and a strange vibration escaped his vertical mouth. Gintoki held back from letting his lips curl in disgust. He wondered if he had been understood. Quick as a flash though, the amanto picked up the necessary ingredients for the order and started mixing. He shook one concoction with his lower set of arms while the other pair set up the glasses for pouring. His tongue wrapped around the handle of a blade and shaved ice into a cup with lightning speed. The silver haired man wondered if that was even remotely hygienic and if it was too late leave.

Eventually though, Gintoki had two, admittedly mouthwatering drinks scooted towards him on the bar’s lacquered wood. He licked his lips but stopped short of picking one up. The bartender held out a hairy hand, curling and uncurling his three fingers, a gesture for payment. The silver haired man furrowed his brows and reached into his pockets to pull out a few coins and some lint. He handed it over reluctantly and the barkeep counted before tossing back a loose button. Gintoki swiped the button from the counter quickly and turned his attention back to his hopefully delicious drinks. 

He went through the arduous and obnoxious performance of slowly tasting the liquid on his tongue, swishing it in his mouth, and hemming and hawing about its flavor qualities. He didn’t notice the other amanto glaring, scooting away from the irritating human. Gintoki didn’t care. The poster had spoken the truth. These drinks were truly delicious. He didn’t even need to add any sugar himself! All of a sudden his anger was quelled. Perhaps it was the ice in the drink, or the sudden influx of sugar but Gintoki was feeling down right pleasant. He would have to remember that this place, despite its outward appearance was a hidden jem.

In his exuberance he downed an entire drink in one gulp forgetting about the brain freeze that came immediately after. The silver haired man grunted and pressed his forehead to the bar, trying to press his tongue to the back of his teeth. The effort was in vain. He slapped his palm against the bar in quick succession, more to express his frustration than to help his headache. Several amanto snickered at his antics, though one was less than pleased. 

Gintoki felt a large hand clap down on his shoulder and he turned to stare. Squinting through his tears he could see a hulking figure. As frightening as this amanto’s stature was it was slightly undercut by the fact that his skin was a delicate pink and he had the head of a hairless cat. 

“You’re making a racket, human,” the amanto hissed, his voice surprisingly deep timbre. “Why don’t you scamper on home like the rat you are?”

Gintoki rubbed at his temple, still in pain. He cocked an eyebrow at the cat man and couldn’t resist the urge to mock.

“Am I a rat or a human? Make up your mind, Princess Snowball,” he smirked, reaching for his second drink. The cat amanto growled and knocked the cocktail off the bar before Gintoki could grab it. It smashed against the wall in the corner and the quiet music from the jukebox in the corner cut off. Everyone’s attention was now on the only human in the vicinity.

“I’m going to love tearing into you like a new scratching post, human,” the amanto threatened, his sharp, wet teeth glistening in the low lighting. Gintoki paused for a moment to imagine the size of the cat tree that an amanto like this would need. He wanted to ask but he was interrupted by the barkeep, pounding his fist against the bar and buzzing angrily at the cat amanto. The larger alien bristled and cocked his hip to rest his hand on it.

“I don’t care if he’s a paying customer. He’s a human, an inferior race,” the cat man taunted, slit eyes sliding back over to Gintoki, “Honestly I’m doing you a favor.”

The silver haired man hopped off his stool, wobbling a bit before finding balance. The crowd gasped and the cat amanto tensed, ready for a fight. Gintoki merely held up a finger, signaling for the amanto to wait and then he rummaged around in his pocket for a moment. The alien’s mouth hung opened in dismay, wondering what strange thing this human was about to do. Finally, the silver haired man found what he was looking for. 

“Here Kitty, meow meow,” Gintoki called, his voice deadpan as he dangled a white string in the air. The cat amanto blinked slowly a few times before it hit him. He recoiled and howled loudly, absolutely livid. Off to the side the barfly barkeep palmed his bulbous forehead. Gintoki raised his eyebrows in surprise, wondering what the problem could be.

“Would you prefer a feather on the end?” The silver haired man turned and started to walk over to a nervous looking bird amanto at the corner booth. He heard an ear-piercing yowl behind his back and suddenly pain erupted at his side.

He was lifted off the ground and went flying through the air. He barely had time to register that he had broken through the thin wood door at the entrance of the bar before he hit the hard plastered wall on the other side of the alley outside. He slid from the wall and into a dumpster, thankful for a softer landing though the smell left much to be desired. 

Disoriented and dizzy Gintoki reached up blindly to grab the edge of the dumpster and hoist himself up. He could feel the drinks coming back up and he lamented that he may have just spent money for nothing. He clapped a hand over his mouth and tried to breath through his nose, holding down his liquids. Gintoki could feel the ground shaking as the huge cat amanto barreled out the door ready to finish what he’d started. The silver haired man tried to ready himself, pulling his hand away from his mouth and immediately regretting it.

“Still alive human? We’ll have to do something about that,” the amanto snarled, raising his clawed fists. Gintoki opened his mouth to hurl an insult but instead he just hurled. He doubled over and vomited right on the cat amanto’s bare stomach and pants. His brows furrowed, sadness and despair heightened when he saw the pink of his strawberry daiquiri wasted. 

As if the cat amanto couldn’t be angrier he gawked at the stain on his clothes, mouth agape, fists quivering. He hissed loudly, saliva flying off his tongue at he hunched down to Gintoki’s level.

“Disgusting! You’re DEAD, human!” The alien reached out his giant hand and clapped it on Gintoki’s head. The silver haired man, still mourning the loss of his perfectly sweetened drink didn’t try to defend himself. The cat amanto flung him into the street. Passerby’s screamed and dove out of the way of the projectile. Gintoki sailed into food stand, missing the sizzling grill but slamming into the containers of vegetables and seasonings lining the walls. 

“Green. Everything’s green,” Gintoki thought as he tried to open his eyes, “No, I’m covered in green.” He realized as he pulled a piece of lettuce off his forehead. He knew the cat amanto was coming but… he had landed on some very confortable sacks of flour and his head was killing him. The stall vendor was screaming at him but he didn’t move. His head felt so heavy on his shoulders. It lulled to the side and he could feel hot, sticky blood drip across his forehead. Sleep sounded good in that moment. He closed his eyes and ignored the pandemonium in the streets around him. 

He heard what he thought was an explosion, and he opened one eye to peek. He could see a familiar formation of black coats emblazoned with gold trim. Wonderful, the Shinsengumi could clean up this mess for him and he could get back to his nap. Or at least he’d like to, but the cook in the stall kept slapping and pushing at him. Gintoki grumbled and decided to crawl out of the wreckage and scattered vegetables. He rolled across the dirt until he was far enough away from the shouting and he lay back down. He had slept on worse things that the filthy street of Kabukicho.

As Gintoki faded into unconsciousness he overheard some familiar voices shouting commands back and forth, trying to gain control over the unruly crowd. Amidst all the footsteps and other noises the silvered haired man could sense the close presence of a particular set of shoes.

“Oi, speak up. You definitely had something to do with this,” an authoritative voice cut through the noise. Gintoki simply frowned and waved his hand dismissively.

“Leave me here to sleep it off in my own blood. Besides I gave you something to do, you should be thanking me,” the silver haired man gripped. The scent of cigarette smoke reached his nose and he twitched. It was unpleasant but it sent a shiver down his spine nonetheless. 

“As if you pay taxes. Don’t try that ‘I fund your paycheck so you should be happy for the work’ bullshit,” Hijikata complained. He reached down and flicked Gintoki’s forehead, streaking some of the blood. The silver haired man grimaced and refused to open his eyes. If he stayed quiet maybe Hijikata wouldn’t touch him again. 

The Vice-Commander heard another explosion behind him and decided that he should probably reign in Sougo before the property damage outweighed the actual police work going on. He stood and turned his attention away from Gintoki but couldn’t help getting in one last word.

“I’ll be back, but don’t think I’m about to foot the bill for your hospital trip. Not again,” he scolded before running off into action.

Gintoki rolled over and huddled up a little tighter. He didn’t need a reminder. Despite the anxiety tossing around in his stomach he passed out, and everything faded to black.


	2. Someday You Might Get Sick of Your Favorite Food, But That Doesn't Mean You Shouldn't Keep Eating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos! Didn't think I'd get such a great response for my first (admittedly short) chapter. Why not keep the ball rolling...

He shivered at the strange lingering touch along his jaw. Opening his eyes was near impossible as they were crusty and dry, his lips equally so. He tried to move his tongue around to moisten mouth but he felt a finger tugging at his lips. The man gasped, the sensation familiar. In his blurry vision he could see raven hair and pale skin, cigarette smoke drifting across his face.

Something sweet was on his tongue. He could feel the soft flesh of a fruit between his teeth. Suddenly his taste buds were overwhelmed and his nerve endings seized at the chilled temperature. What should have been pleasant was off putting and the man, despite the lead weight of his torso, pushed himself upright.

He was panting, staring down at the crisp white linen draped across his legs marred only by a half eaten strawberry that had fallen from his mouth. Quickly he reached out to pick up the fruit but there were already a few drops of juice staining the fabric. Rather than let it go to waste he popped the strawberry in his mouth and glanced at his surroundings.

A hospital room, clean and austere. It was almost familiar… but the man shrugged that thought away. Many hospital rooms probably looked the same. To his left there was a window, the early morning sun barely breaching the horizon line. To his right… the man pulled a confused face.

In a chair next to his bed he saw a small creature. His skin was green and his eyes bug-like. It blinked up at him and somehow, the man could glean that this thing knew him. He tilted his head at the insect man and this seemed to excite him. From his lap he grabbed a small bento box and placed it on the bed, buzzing with his vertical mouth and sharp teeth. The creature pointed his hairy three fingers at the lid.

The man in the bed decided it was in his best interest to investigate. He popped open the box and could see fresh strawberries in one of the compartments. That explained a few things. However upon further inspection there were some strange things accompanying the fruit. 

A strawberry tart, nothing wrong with that.

Strawberries sliced on a small cucumber salad, not something particularly appetizing…

Strawberry… rice?

Pork with a strawberry glaze?

The man in the bed rubbed his forehead and turned to his tiny guest. Was this the kind of food he liked to eat? For some reason he couldn’t remember. Wait… why couldn’t he remember? It should have been simple to recall his favorite foods but it was all blank.

This insect had to be his family. Why else would he be visiting? The man tried to replicate the strange buzzing language he had heard but he could tell the shape of his mouth wasn’t quite the same. He lifted his fingers to his lips and was again shocked. He pulled his hand away to stare at the five digits and his pale, peachy skin.

So… he wasn’t also a weird bug thing?

Upon second thought he probably wouldn’t think the insect man looked unusual if he were of the same species. Regardless the man continued to buzz, getting different expressions of confusion from the creature.

In the distance the door opened and a nurse entered. She took in the sight before her, a human buzzing at an insect amanto, and decided to push forward with a customer service smile plastered to her face.

“I’m glad to see you’re awake,” she said calmly, stepping over to his bed to retrieve a chart. She rifled through the papers and glanced up at the patient.

“Severe head trauma and some cuts and bruises almost everywhere… How are you feeling?”

On instinct the man buzzed in response. The nurse did not look pleased. 

“This had better not be a joke, Gintoki,” she grumbled through clenched teeth. She saw him much too often for her liking and knew that he could just be trying to pull one over on them for pilfered puddings and strawberry milk. The silver haired man had destroyed many a vending machine intentionally and unintentionally.

“Gin… toki?” 

He spoke it slowly, the muscle memory of his tongue kicking in. That was his name. It instantly clicked in his head.

The nurse raised an eyebrow. She was still cautious but perhaps he was telling the truth. She looked down the chart and ran over the information as though he were an ordinary patient. 

“Sakata Gintoki, admitted last night after a bar fight that filtered into the streets of the Red Light District,” the nurse explained, smirking knowingly. “It seems like you have some memory lose, but we will need to determine the severity with some questions.”

Gintoki nodded. It sounded accurate. He had just again learned his name, after all. The nurse proceeded with some basic inquiries but the silver haired man struggled. He remembered his age, the date, the current Shogun, but not much else. How could he be expected to remember what he was forgetting?

“Wait, wait! So I’m not… whatever he is?” Gintoki asked, pointing at the insect by his side. The nurse recoiled in shock.

“Are you kidding me? No you’re not an amanto,” she answered.

Amanto… that sounded familiar too. 

While the nurse fiddled in her pocket for a compact Gintoki nodded to himself. Slowly he remembered the recent history of the nation. His role in it was still a little fuzzy, but the presence of foreigner aliens fit itself into the puzzle. Distracting him from his thoughts the nurse walked over to his bedside and held up her small mirror.

Gintoki’s eyes widened and he gasped. Strangely, of all the things that were surprising him his appearance was the hardest to comprehend. He truly wasn’t a bug amanto; he was a human! He looked closely at his red eyes and prominent lids, casting an expression of carelessness across his face. And his hair, it was so… curly. He ran his hand through it, marveling at its bounciness, its soft sheen and of course the striking color. He decided that he liked it and it was perhaps his best feature.

His fingers stilled and he traced along the bandage wrapped around his forehead. The nurse explained that he would need that for at least another two weeks. It would also have to be changed every few days. 

“I can change it for you now if you’d like,” the nurse offered. Ordinarily she wouldn’t extend the courtesy to Gintoki, but he was particularly docile after the head trauma. The silver haired man however shook his head vigorously. For some reason it unsettled him to have the bandage taken off. The pressure of the wrapping was almost comforting. He was feeling a little off balance with all that he had learned and no doubt had yet to learn.

He was handed his clothes and a prescription for headache medicine. The nurse and bug amanto went to wait outside the door and Gintoki dressed in privacy. He took a moment to look at himself in the mirror on the opposite wall. With the hospital gown removed he could see his entire body. His skin was riddled with scars everywhere he looked. It took his breath away a little. He had either been in a lot of fights, or was just really bad at the few fights he had been in. The nurse had mentioned a bar brawl earlier… perhaps he was more of a thug than he felt in that moment.

Gintoki glanced over at the bed, his clothes laid out for him to choose from. He looked from his black shirt and pants over to his yukata and sash. True the western clothes might have been faster to put on but… for some reason his eyes were drawn to the yukata, the pure white fabric and the gentle blue wave pattern. He picked it up and draped it from his shoulders, slipping his arms inside the sleeves and wrapping himself tighter. In the confines of the cloth he found relief. He tied the sash securely and sighed long and low.

His eyes returned to the mirror and he could no longer see his scars. That was also a small comfort. He gathered the rest of his clothes and slipped into his boots. Admittedly they looked a little strange with the yukata but he figured he could get sandals later.

Gintoki took a deep breath and stepped out into the hall. The nurse and bug amanto greeted him and ushered him to the check out desk. He signed and initialed a few things, filling his prescription while he was at it. The silver haired man’s eyes suddenly widened and he reached into his pants pocket for a wallet. He found only a loose button. A wave of embarrassment washed over him and he panicked for a brief moment.

“Don’t worry about payment,” the nurse explained, seeing Gintoki pale. She slid a receipt across the counter to him, “You’ve been taken care of, God knows why.” 

The silver haired man picked up the paper and looked at the signature at the bottom. Again, he was in for a shock.

“Hijikata Toshiro with… The Shinsengumi?” He sounded the words out in surprise. He wasn’t sure if he should feel more or less nervous that the Shogun’s private police force was mixed up in this. The nurse merely rolled her eyes at his confusion and busied herself with other work leaving Gintoki to his own devices. The silver haired man was jarred from his thoughts by three hairy fingers wrapping around his hand, tugging him to the exit. 

Gintoki followed dutifully, still wondering what his connection with this amanto was. Normally one would be worried to follow a stranger but this creature seemed kind… plus he was so small. To passersby it probably looked like Gintoki was walking with a hideous child rather than another adult. He could certainly handle himself in a fight if it came to that.

The sun outside the hospital was a little higher in the sky now, shining brightly to signal the morning. There was hardly anyone out and about but it was peaceful. Gintoki was thankful for the quiet. As the two walked the silver haired man stopped to admire the nature of the manicured grounds around them. Flowering trees providing ample shade and lush green grass made it perfect for a picnic. Gintoki was feeling hungry and, though the amanto’s bento box was strange he could probably eat at least half of it… right?

Gintoki glanced down at his tiny friend and suddenly a thought struck him.

“Hey… do you know where I live?” 

The bug amanto blinked slowly, his bulbous eyes glistening. The fine hairs making up his eyebrows furrowed and with both sets of arms he shrugged.

Gintoki crouched to the ground and groaned. He knew he probably should have asked that from the start. Hell, he had probably only been released from the hospital because the amanto was there, presumably to pick him up. The silver haired man eyed the building entrance in the distance. He knew the easiest thing to do would be to go back inside and ask the staff… but the nurses didn’t seem too pleased with him. Gintoki wasn’t sure why.

Either way he didn’t want to go back into the hospital at that moment anyway. It was a nice enough day and he was starting to feel faint. It couldn’t hurt to indulge in breakfast first. He would go back inside the hospital and find a different nurse after he had gotten something to eat.

“Hey… let’s sit over there,” the silver haired man directed to the insect amanto, pointing to a nearby piece of shade. The creature agreed and the two sat in the grass. Gintoki popped open the bento once more and tasted his way around each dish. He wanted to at least try them all to be polite even if the food defied all logic. Meanwhile the amanto reached into his side pocket for some sort of wrapped bar. 

Gintoki watched incredulously as the bug pulled back the plastic. It looked like some sort of fruit jerky (strawberry, of course) with chunks of insects and what looked like a rat’s tail inside. As the amanto scarfed it down happily Gintoki was paralyzed with thoughts. Was he technically witnessing cannibalism? Where would one even procure such a disgusting treat? What was this thing’s deal with strawberries?! Kind of obsessive from Gintoki’s point of view.

The silver haired man forced himself to look away and focus on his own food. Once he had eaten his fill and the insect amanto had polished off his weird snack it was much easier to relax. Both men sat back and people watched. About an hour passed and more and more people were starting to move about their day. Their patch of shade had shifted and the sun was beaming down across Gintoki’s lap. His eyelids felt heavy and he could feel himself drifting off slightly.

“Hey,” he spoke to keep himself awake, “What’s your name anyway?”

The bug amanto proceeded to make a few buzzing and slurping sounds that Gintoki knew he couldn’t recreate if he tried. And he did try, but eventually the creature just shook his head, urging the silver haired man to stop.

“Sorry… Do you mind if I give you a name then? I don’t wanna call you bug man,” Gintoki asked, glancing at his new friend. The little alien held his chin in one set of hands and his mouth vibrated cheerfully (or at least Gintoki assumed as much). The silver haired man thought long and hard and suddenly an idea struck. It may not have been the most polite but perhaps this amanto didn’t understand Japanese slang?

“How do you feel about me calling you Baibu,” Gintoki asked, trying to keep a straight face, his lips quivering. The amanto blinked thrice and then made a trilling buzz, pumping the fists of his other set of arms. Clearly he liked it but didn’t understand, or the two had a similar sense of humor. 

Gintoki smiled to himself. The fact that he had a sense of humor was yet another new recollection. He had felt right at home making a dirty joke… perhaps his memory would be back before long. 

Deciding to stay put, the two continued to sunbath and ogle. Gintoki was amazed at all the different people he saw, both human and alien. Some dressed plain, some more ostentatiously. He saw feathers and fur, antenna and tentacles, traditional Japanese clothes and some opting for what were essentially costumes. Gintoki marveled at the weird city he lived in. With this much variety he could definitely find a way to fit in, memories or no memories.

The silver haired man’s eyebrows suddenly raised and his mouth hung open. He sat up straight at the new sight before him. He turned the Baibu but he had fallen asleep in the sunlight. Gintoki shook him awake, pointing at what he saw.

“Look at the size of that dog,” Gintoki marveled at the horse sized pet walking down the path. It was so big that even a young girl was riding on its back half asleep, “Do you think they’d let us pet it?”

The amanto buzzed dismissively, annoyed at his rude awakening. Gintoki, however had never seen anything so amazing in his life. He wasn’t sure when he’d get another chance to touch such an enormous dog. He stood quickly, brushing the grass from his yukata. The silver haired man jogged over. It seemed like two men accompanied the girl and dog. One average looking boy, fidgeting with his glasses while the other…

Wait.

Something was very familiar about that uniform.

Gintoki slowed to a walk. He felt unnerved by that black outfit with gold trim. He pressed a hand to his chest. A chill ran down his back, though he wasn’t sure why. This was the first time he had seen this man, right? Or maybe not… in which case he could be a link to more memories. 

The silver haired man took a steadying breath and decided to be brave. If he called out then surely he would get his answer.

“Excuse me… can I pet your dog?” Gintoki asked, coming up behind the group. The boy in glasses sighed loudly as he turned to speak.

“Only if you want to lose your hands,” he said dryly. In an instant his eyes were the size if dinner plates.

“Gin-san!” He shouted, taking a few steps over. At his exclamation the girl and the dog both perked up and maneuvered to look over.

“Gintoki!” The red haired girl shouted, hoping off her dog to rush up and give the man a hug.

Well, that answered that. Much as the silver haired man wanted to accept this familiarity and affection he couldn’t for the life of him recall these two kids. That and… Gintoki’s eyes drifted over to the man in uniform, his heart inexplicably racing.

The raven-haired man also turned around to see what the commotion was about. His expression, however, was less than welcoming. His eyes were naturally sharp but the grimace on his features only intensified things. His upper lip flared around a cigarette pinched in his teeth and Gintoki was suddenly reminded of his waking daydream that morning. When their eyes met the man in uniform huffed and averted his gaze.

Gintoki was crestfallen; yet another person he couldn’t remember that seemed to detest him. 

“I’m glad you’re ok, Gin-san,” the young boy sighed with relief.

“This is what happens when old men go out looking for ladies of the night,” the girl remarked crudely, hanging off of Gintoki’s sleeve. He was caught off guard by her strength and took a few scuffling steps to balance himself.

“I… I’m sorry but I don’t think I remember who you guys… are,” Gintoki spoke slowly, regretting that he had to crush their spirits after the warm greeting. Besides the bug amanto these two were the only other people who seemed to genuinely care for him.

Yet, rather than looking upset or sad the two children groaned in irritation.

“Are you serious,” the boy in glasses muttered pressing a hand to his forehead, “You have amnesia, again? We’ve already done this episodes back!”

“If your head weren’t so empty you wouldn’t lose your memories so easily, uh-huh,” the young girl groused as she bent her arm at a right angle and placed her other hand on her bicep, making a rude gesture. 

Gintoki was taken a back. They had switched gears so abruptly… was this one eighty normal? Before he had the chance to interject the girl hopped back onto her dog and the boy stood at her side.

“It’s up to you now, Mr. Shinsengumi,” the girl dictated, pointing down at the man in uniform, “This is your punishment for interrupting my beauty sleep.”

“Much as I enjoyed being rescued from my sister’s eggs I have a lot to attend to at the dojo,” the boy in glasses seconded. 

“Oh no, you can just fuck of, the both of you,” the man in uniform snapped, folding his arms, smoke pluming out of both nostrils.

“You’re the one who let him fall asleep with a concussion,” the boy asserted under his breath. At this the raven hair man flinched, looking a little guilty. He sucked on his cigarette harder and Gintoki could only stare. This must have been Hijikata Toshiro. The uniform and his knowledge of the accident coincided perfectly with the signature on the receipt for the hospital bill. The silver haired man didn’t want to be a burden, but perhaps he could figure out how to repay the man this way.

“Kiss my ass, Mayo Breath. We’re outta here!” the young girl barked, her voice taking on a deep timber and a sardonic smile stretched across her face. She squeezed her dog’s sides with her feet and they took off with the boy running after them.

“Eat shit, you rotten brats!” Hijikata shouted after them, stomping his foot and griping onto the handle of his sword instinctively. He prolonged his grumbling, reluctant to turn and face Gintoki. The Vice Chief wasn’t sure if the silver haired man would be more or less annoying without his memories, but either way this wasn’t how he had hoped to spend the rest of his day. He turned slowly to glare at Gintoki.

The silver haired man shrunk back, fiddling with the sleeve of his kimono awkwardly as he tried to avoid the officer’s heated stare. He wondered what kind of history they shared if this was the man’s reaction to his presence. 

“C’mon, Perm Head, I don’t have all day,” Hijikata groused, hands on his hips, “I’ve got a case to get back to.”

Gintoki nodded and was about to start following the raven haired man when he felt a tug on his yukata. The insect amanto was standing at Gintoki’s with his other set of clothes in hand. 

“Ugh, what the hell is that,” Hijikata exclaimed, his nose wrinkling. The creature emitted a low vibration that almost sounded like a growl. It didn’t seem like he was very fond of the man in uniform.

“Well… this is Baibu,” Gintoki explained. He kept a straight face though he was a little embarrassed about telling this childish joke to a member of the Shinsengumi. Hijikata did not look pleased. His lip curled away from his teeth and his smoky exhale hissed through his teeth.

“No it’s not,” the officer corrected, refusing to believe that this amanto was named after a vibrator.

“Well maybe not… but I can’t pronounce his name so I figured it was the most fitting thing to call him,” the silver haired man elaborated, laughing nervously. Hijikata saw a faint blush on the man’s pale face and for some reason it made him angrier.

“You had better not be lying about having amnesia,” he threatened before turning on his heel and stalking off. Gintoki rushed to catch up with the bug amanto right at his side. The silver haired man could only hope that the day would improve from here. He wasn’t sure how much more vitriol from others he could deal with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone likes stupid jokes :)


	3. Leave Police Work to the Police Officers, and Don't Do Drugs in Front of Them if You Can Help It

The two men and small amanto made their way down the street. Hijikata walked proudly, shoulders held high as he scanned around for possible illegal activities. Meanwhile Gintoki awkwardly shuffled behind him wringing his hands together with Biabu at his side. They hadn’t so much as spoken a word since they had left the hospital grounds and it was putting the silver haired man on edge. He wondered if he could carry a civil conversation with the officer let alone repay him for covering his hospital bill. 

After several failed attempts to start a discussion Gintoki was left fiddling with a frayed thread on his yukata sleeve. In his focus he didn’t notice when Hijikata came to an abrupt stop. The silver haired man bumped right into the officer and yelped in surprise, grabbing his shoulder for balance. Hijikata turned swiftly, shaking Gintoki’s hold.

He glared at this constant nuisance. The silver haired man shrunk back again, his eyes fluttering away to avoid contact. Again that infuriating blush was present on the pale man’s cheeks. It riled Hijikata. This was not Gintoki. 

That should have made him happy. He had wished many, many times that the silver haired man would just straighten up and get his act together instead of acting like an over grown child. However, this softened and shy version of the samurai provided the Vice Chief little relief.

“Why are you wearing your yukata like that,” Hijikata questioned through a sneer, eyeing the silver haired man up and down. Gintoki blinked rapidly, flustered. The tiny bug amanto at his side buzzed something under his breath.

“I… isn’t this how you wear a yukata,” the silver haired man responded in a small voice. The officer huffed out smoke and turned up his nose.

“Not how you wear it,” he stated firmly, arms folding. A long silence passed while Gintoki tried to think of something to say. The raven haired man knew this interrogation was unwarranted. The samurai looked like a frightened kitten, shivering in his robes, but Hijikata just couldn’t drop his foul attitude. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Gintoki apologized unnecessarily, “I can change if you think it would-

“Ugh, never mind,” the officer grumbled, rubbing at his creased forehead, “Anyway, I’m going to be stopping in over there to check out some intel before I bring you back to headquarters.”

Hijikata pointed off in the distance at a rundown looking office building. Gintoki realized for the first time that they had left behind the idyllic parts of the city and were now on the rougher side of town. The streets weren’t paved and many of the buildings were substandard, fierce looking creatures loitering outside.

“Headquarters? Do I… do I live with the Shinsengumi,” the silver haired man asked incredulously. Hijikata responded with a snort.

“Hell no, but your own home is much more dangerous. I am not suturing fang punctures or popping your limbs back into their sockets like last time,” the officer recounted, a large dog and tiny girl in his mind as he spoke.

“Last time?” Gintoki murmured, cowering. He only had his imagination to fill in the blanks and it was not pleasant.

“Oh yeah, I guess you don’t remember that,” Hijikata mumbled to himself. His jaw tightened and he shook unpleasant memories from his mind. “Whatever, that’s not important right now. All I need you to do is stay close and silent while I do what I have to.”

A frustrated buzz sounded at Gintoki’s hip and Hijikata glared down at the alien.

“That can wait outside,” he commanded, glancing down at the bug amanto. The less witnesses the better. If he weren’t worried about Gintoki wandering off he would also have him wait outside.

Without anymore explanation the officer turned on his heel and made his way to the building. The silver haired man picked up the pace to follow. Hijikata barged his way in the door without a second of pause and disappeared. Gintoki’s heart leapt into his throat and he hurried after. Baibu stood nervously at the entrance as the door swung shut. He hoped Gintoki would be ok, but he was smart enough not to go in there. Whether the officer demanded it or not.

Once inside Gintoki was hit with the smell of smoke and the pungent sting of alcohol. He glanced around and saw partitioned off rooms for gambling, both cards and dice. The office building structure seemed to be a front for a gambling den. The silver haired man bristled as the sights and smells, feeling both unfamiliar and unwelcome in such surroundings. 

Quickly he squeezed through the crowd of customers and scantly dressed waitresses following Hijikata’s back. Just as he reached him the officer pushed open a decorative door inlayed with gold. Gintoki remembered that the raven-haired man had said. To stay close and silent. If someone had told him yesterday that he would be along for the ride on a police investigation well… actually he wouldn’t have remembered, but it was shocking nonetheless. 

Again, a room full of smoke. With a quick breath the silver haired man detected a pleasant aroma, one of heady incense permeating the room. He felt his heart race and his face flush. He was light headed and wondered for a brief moment if there was an airborne drug laced with the scent. He was almost carried away, if not for the one feeling that kept him grounded.

Anxiety coursed through Gintoki’s veins, his lungs felt small. There was a prickling in his fingertips and the urge to reach out and place a hand on Hijikata’s back for comfort was overwhelming. He knew that wouldn’t be a wise decision but the thought was fluttering in his mind anyway.

Suddenly the officer did an about face and Gintoki wasn’t prepared to have the man’s eyes locked with his. His heart faltered and the incense made his chest tight. Hijikata leaned close, holding his cigarette pinched in the corner of his mouth so he could speak around it.

“Keep your mouth shut while I speak with the owner,” the officer instructed harshly. His voice passed by Gintoki’s ear in a whisper, making the silver haired man shiver. Hijikata had already told him to stay silent outside. Was he that likely to disobey?

“Just sit behind me and don’t cause any trouble,” the raven haired man ordered, his eyes motioning towards a plush pillow next to several alien woman, all snoozing languidly on a pile of fabrics and cushions. Gintoki nodded and edged his way over, sitting quickly. He watched as Hijikata approached the center of the room, kneeling before a table covered in gold coins, gems, and carafes of wine.

Sitting in the distance, almost shrouded by smoke was an amanto. Gintoki was suddenly struck with a comparison. Of all the things he could remember this man made him think of an Indian mural. His skin was a pale violet and in place of a nose was a short elephant trunk. Coarse, wiry hair tumbled in curls down his shoulders and one golden eye was covered with a velvety looking eye patch. His style of dress was just as extravagant as the room around them. Decorated in gold and shimmering with jewel tones, necklaces and strings of beads dancing in the light of several lanterns.

“Officer Spinel, a pleasure as always,” the amanto spoke, exhaling more of that sweet incense. Gintoki squinted through the fog, trying to discern if this alien was the one emitting it.

“It’s Hijikata. We’ve been over this,” the raven haired man reminded, a vein in his forehead becoming more prominent.

“I’m disappointed. You still haven’t taken to my nickname,” the amanto sighed though a smile remained on his face, “There are many interesting gems here on Earth. I thought Spinel was fitting. Finding that gem in blue is especially rare after all.” The amanto licked his lower lip as he stared at Hijikata’s eyes, the inspiration for the nickname. 

“Enough un-pleasantries,” the Vice Chief balked, “I’m here for my intel, Hiran.”

“Always business with you,” the amanto scoffed, flicking his wrist and snapping his fingers. From a different room a man emerged, his clothes leaving little to the imagination as he sauntered closer. He handed off the papers in his hands to Hiran who flipped through them needlessly, stalling as he looked Hijikata up and down.

It was at this point that Gintoki felt himself nodding off. Whatever smoke Hiran was producing had put him in a daze. He sat awkwardly on the cushion, growing tired of a traditional kneel. He leaned his weight into his hand as he sat on his hip, legs off to the side. He tried to tug at his yukata, the slit in the fabric spreading open further and further up his thigh. Then again it was so hot in that room…

Meanwhile Hijikata held out an anxious hand, desperately wanting to escape the sickening scent of this room. Hiran made a move to hand him the papers when he suddenly snapped them back. The officer began to grumble when a curious glint in the amanto’s eye caught his attention.

“Who is it that you’ve brought with you today,” he asked as he looked over Hijikata’s shoulder, eyes resting squarely on Gintoki as he shifted his clothes. 

“No one of importance,” the officer assured as he followed Hiran’s gaze. He bit the inside of his cheek to quell his anger as he watched Gintoki squirm around, the pale skin of his leg glimmering through the smoke. The blush on his face was spreading to his ears and his eyes were hooded. 

A rough whisper cut through the air, closer than Hijikata was prepared for.

“Interesting coloring he has, especially for a human,” the amanto noted. The officer clenched his fist to keep still, fingernails digging into his flesh.

“I’m sure I could dig up some more intel,” the alien continued to speak, “that is, if you leave your friend here for a pleasant afternoon.”

“Ha… he’s more trouble than he’s worth, I assure you,” Hijikata spat, relying on his training to keep himself under control. He held back from picturing all the things he knew Hiran wanted to do. This amanto was deviant scum with a horrifying track record. He took a deep breath and maintained his composure.

“It’s interesting… you are totally unaffected by my scent, but your friend…” Hiran lingered on a pause, letting his words settle in before breaking the silence, “Well, you remember what I said about the people who are susceptible.”

Hijikata snatched the papers from the amanto’s hand as fast as lightning. He stood abruptly, knocking the table askew. He took several rushed steps over to Gintoki who blinked up at him, through a haze. The silver haired man glanced down when he saw motion and could see Hijikata holding out his hand.

Heart beat thumping in his ears, Gintoki reached up to accept the invitation. The officer roughly grabbed his wrist, refusing to hold his hand, and pulled the man to his feet. He marched towards the door and could hear Hiran chuckle.

“Perhaps another time,” the amanto called after the two men, snickering continuing.

Hijikata could hear it ringing in his head: that amanto’s disgusting laughter and all it implied, even as they burst out of the building and into the street, the fresh air. He turned to look at Gintoki who still looked blissed out, a million miles away. The expression made him furious, and he wasn’t sure why.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” the officer questioned, pulling the silver haired man aside to an alleyway.

“I stayed quiet like you said,” the silver haired man spoke listlessly, eyeing Hijikata’s fist, now rumpling the collar of his yukata. Gintoki thought he had done everything right and still somehow he had failed…

His gaze trailed up to the officer’s face. Beneath all the rage there seemed to be a hint of confliction. Perhaps there simply wasn’t a way to please Hijikata, the silver haired man thought. 

Fervent buzzing suddenly sounded and Baibu was at Gintoki’s side, hissing at the Vice Chief. Hijikata was caught off guard, suddenly embarrassed at his outburst. He removed his hand from the snow-white yukata and stepped away. Gintoki straightened his robes and glanced up at the officer who was doing his best not to look his way.

“Forget it. Just have some self-awareness, for god’s sake,” Hijikata grunted before walking off. As uncomfortable as the silver haired man felt he had no choice but to follow.

The entire walk to headquarters was a bleak affair. Baibu held Gintoki’s hand tightly the whole way, sensing the human’s discomfort, though it did little good. All the samurai could do was stare at Hijikata’s tense shoulder blades. His debt to the officer seemed to be piling up, not to mention lodging would soon be provided to him as well.

With fresh air in his lungs Gintoki was feeling less out of it, but he almost wished for that warmth and absentmindedness back. Each step he took behind the Vice Chief felt heavy and full of regret. The last thing he wanted to do was spend more time with this man, especially when he seemed so angry.

Soon the men neared the large wood gates of the Shinsengumi barracks and outside stood a man, bouncing a shuttlecock on his badminton racket. The Vice Chief glowered and the man immediately held the items behind his back, smiling sheepishly. 

“Get Perm Head set up in the shed again,” Hijikata barked. Yamazaki looked behind his superior and saw a very shy looking Gintoki.

“Again? Don’t tell me…”

“No. This time it’s amnesia,” the raven haired man explained, “You know the drill. I have to turn this intel in.”

Gintoki felt his chest squeeze when he saw Hijikata start to walk away, abandoning the situation on the shoulders of a subordinate. The silver haired man took a few steps forward.

“Hi-Hijikata-kun! Er, Officer Hijikata-kun,” Gintoki stuttered out, “Thank you for your help!”

The samurai knew he sounded desperate, but he didn’t want the officer to see him as a burden, he didn’t want their last interaction to be a confused, hostile one.

“I am merely doing my job, fool,” Hijikata called over his shoulder, not bothering a look back.

Yamazaki bristled, the tension in the air palpable. He watched the Vice Chief disappear into the main building before turning to face Gintoki. Yamazaki’s face dropped, betraying his surprise. 

He couldn’t recall the curly haired samurai ever looking so sad, so devastated by a few simple words. Taking a deep breath he stepped over to Gintoki, hoping to provide levity.

“Hey so… I guess I’ll show you to your room,” Yamazaki urged, motioning towards the grounds. Gintoki took a long glance across all the buildings inside the gate and he only looked more upset. 

A sudden chirping alarm sounded and for the first time, Yamazaki noticed the small amanto at Gintoki’s side. Both humans looked down and saw the bug alien poking at his wristwatch. Once the chirping stopped he looked purposely at the silver haired man speaking in his native tongue. Though neither man understood, context clues helped aid the translation. 

Baibu shucked off his backpack and pulled out Gintoki’s black pants and shirt, handing them over. In addition he pulled a slightly bent business card out of his pocket. He tapped his finger against it several times before handing it off. The silver haired man stared at it and could discern the address of a local bar. With that Baibu waved goodbye with all of his arms and ran off down the street.

Gintoki waved after, but it all felt hollow. The only creature that had shown him even the smallest shred of genuine kindness was now running off back to his own life.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you’d have a weird friend like that,” Yamazaki commented, attempting conversation. Gintoki simply sighed and looked down at his feet. The officer flinched, unsure of how to lighten the mood. He simply urged the samurai to follow him and he lead the way to his modest quarters.

In the far corner of the grounds, across a training field, sat a small shed. Yamazaki unlocked the door and allowed Gintoki entry. The silver haired man stared at all the supplies shoved to one corner: practice swords, padded armor, and archery targets. Yamazaki explained off hand that this shed had once been living quarters for a grounds keeper, hence the toilet, sink, and kitchen.

Gintoki saw a bed in the far corner, light filtering in from a nearby window. He stepped over to it, lost in thought. Running his fingers across the sheet a thin film of dust came off on his skin.

“Oh, sorry about that, I can do the laundry. Can’t say we expected to have you back so soon,” Yamazaki admitted. He stepped over to the bed to retrieve the blankets, but stopped short when he saw Gintoki’s shoulders shaking.

“H-hey, are you alright?” Yamazaki asked, placing a hand on the samurai’s arm. Gintoki’s eyes were scrunched closed, a hand pressed firmly against his mouth. He moved it away for just a moment to speak.

“I-I’m sorry. It’s just been… a long day,” he managed to choke out, a loud sob following after. He covered his mouth again and tears started pooling in his eyelashes. Yamazaki placed a comforting hand on the man’s back. He was shocked to see Gintoki openly crying, but this wasn’t the same Gintoki he knew. Yamazaki empathized. If he had woken up one morning with little memory and then been dragged around behind the surly Vice Chief he would probably cry too.

The silver haired man swiveled on his feet and slumped against Yamazaki, weeping into the officer’s shoulder. He held the samurai, patting his back at a soothing tempo. He hoped that Gintoki would regain his memories quickly so he could leave. Not that Yamazaki wanted him gone, but the last time he had stayed here well… One look at Gintoki and Hijikata a month ago was enough to tell you that things hadn’t gone swimmingly.

So Yamazaki let Gintoki cry, for as long as he needed too, waiting patiently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sad Gintoki is sad ;-; poor guy.

**Author's Note:**

> More to come :)


End file.
